


Arcade Anarchy

by Avarice, sabershadowkat



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avarice/pseuds/Avarice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabershadowkat/pseuds/sabershadowkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dialogue ficlette. Angel and Spike have been together awhile, and,<br/>bored, Spike disappears into an arcade.<br/>Post Season 4/Season 1<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Arcade Anarchy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Avarice's Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/133154) by Avarice. 



> Number 5 in the **The Odd Couple ******series  
> 

(Spike and Angel are walking down a heavy populated street)

SPIKE: How many bloody times do I have to tell you, you ponce?! I did NOT use your blue silk shirt to shine my Docs!

ANGEL: Yeah. Sure.

SPIKE: I mean it, I am completely blameless here!

ANGEL: Oh, so I suppose my *other* vampire lover did it, then? (Spike stops suddenly)

SPIKE: (whispered hurtfully) Other?

ANGEL: (sighs exasperatedly) Sarcasm is completely lost on you, isn't it?

(Spike throws his hands in the air and starts walking up the street again)

SPIKE: Aargh! You ruined what was going to be a great joke! (mumbles) How's a bloke supposed to make an arse outta someone if they don't effin' cooperate?!

ANGEL: (jogs to catch up) Oh don't be upset. You make an ass out of yourself quite successfully most of the time. (Spike stops, spins back to Angel)

ANGEL: (innocently) What?

SPIKE: First of all, takes one to know one.

ANGEL: (clutches his heart) That hurts. (Spike starts walking again in step with Angel)

SPIKE: Secondly-

ANGEL: No wait, i'm still trying to recover from the first.

SPIKE: (scowls) I didn't hurt your precious blue silk shirt

(Spike grabs the nearest door -- which belongs to a video arcade -- and pulls it open. He walks inside calls over his shoulder)

SPIKE: I used your red one! (Spike laughs and disappears into the throng of people. Angel opens the door open forcefully and scans the crowd for Spike)

ANGEL: (mumbles in a morbidly singsong manner) Spiiiike.... get your ass back here... I'm gonna stake you to my wall, paint a dartboard on your stomach and get the kitchen kniiiiives....

SPIKE: (laughs over the sounds of the beeps of computer games) Betcha couldn't hit bullseye if the whole *bull* was the target!

ANGEL: (calls out) I wouldn't be able to hit it if the centre was your dick - the target's too small even for me

SPIKE: (sidles up behind Angel w/o the ponce knowing, sticks his hands in Angel's pockets)

ANGEL: (jumps) Hey!

SPIKE: Isn't that what I said about your hole last night, Mr. Tightarse?

ANGEL: No, I think you had your mouth full at the time.

SPIKE: (takes $ from Angel's pockets) Well, you know, a bloke needs to gargle... (walks off with the money)... every once in awhile

ANGEL: (frowns and walks after Spike) Yeah... because you've always been concerned about getting gingivitis....

SPIKE: Hey, don't want to get a visit from the tooth fairy, do I? One fairy in my unlife is enough, ta very much. (pats Angel's cheek) 'Sides, I wouldn't want your place usurped.

ANGEL: Usurped? since when did you start using the English language like it was meant to be used?

SPIKE: (stops in front of a change-to-tokens machine and looks horrified) Oi! I'm starting to sound like you!

ANGEL: (smirks) Perish the thought.

SPIKE: (grabs Angels hand and starts licking the back of it) Blech!

ANGEL: (looks puzzled) What are you doing?

SPIKE: Trying to get your language off of my tongue! (sticks out his tongue, grabs it with his fingers and tries to look at it) Izz iwt gown?

ANGEL: I meant what are you doing with my money? (picks up a token) this *can't* be worth very much..

.

SPIKE: (sees Angel takes tokes, snatches it from him) Mine! Get your own!

ANGEL: (annoyed) Technically, this *is* mine! Although, I can't see what use it has...

SPIKE: Hey, I stole your money fair and square (gestures around the arcade) and the tokens are for the games, moron

ANGEL: (looks around properly for the first time) These are *games*??

SPIKE: (feeds more of Angel's $ into the change maker) Yep.

ANGEL: (shakes his head) They can't possibly be. Chess is a game.

SPIKE: Chess is for math geeks, blokes with pocket protectors and cokebottle goggles, and you.

ANGEL: Then why did you always used to throw such a tantrum when I beat you?

SPIKE: (waggles his brows) Because when I throw a tantrum, you beat me more. (takes tokens and faces the variety of games) All right, my pretties, who am I going to get high score on first?

ANGEL: (looks around with barely concealed disgust) You're not actually going to *play* any of these things, are you?

SPIKE: (corrects him) No, I'm going to *win* these things. (starts to walk around, eyeballing the machines, and a few kids because he might be peckish later)

ANGEL: (gets jostled by some teenagers and snarls)

SPIKE: (muttering to himself) Pacman, boring...

ANGEL: (fights through the throng to catch up with Spike)

SPIKE: Pinball, for sods who like chess...

ANGEL: (stares blankly) What's a pinball?

SPIKE: One of those dangly things between your legs, pet.

ANGEL: (smirks) I asked what a pinball was, Spike, not a truncheon.

SPIKE: And I was talking about what's between *your* legs, luv, not *mine.* (pauses by a Zelda game)

ANGEL: (shakes his head wearily) There's no way we're going to get out of here before you 'play' on one of these noisy contraptions, is there?

SPIKE: (continues on) Nope. I didn't put my hands in your pockets for a free grope.

ANGEL: Of course it wasn't free, I had to pay through the nose for it.

SPIKE: (grins rakishly) If you want these hands on you baby, of course you gotta pay.

ANGEL: (mutters) I've been paying from the moment I turned your sorry ass...

SPIKE: (spots the pole position game) Yes! It's free!

ANGEL: Not for me...

SPIKE: (darts over to the game and slides into the seat) Yeah, baby, start for papa.

(Angel trudges over and looks over everything with his brow furrowed. Spike puts tokens into the game)

<announcer on game> _Players, start your engines!_

SPIKE: (pushes on pedal) Listen to that sweet purr.

ANGEL: (ventures hesitantly) It's a car game?

SPIKE: (rolls eyes) No, the steering wheel, gear shift and pedal are used to bake a cake.

ANGEL: Excuse me for breathing...

SPIKE: Okay, but I'm not gonna excuse that onion breath.

ANGEL: Don't blame me (looks at Spike pointedly) It's *not* the last thing I ate...

SPIKE: (grins) Next time, gargle. (Angel massages his temples and tries to figure out Spike's obsession with gargling. Spike selects one player and moves gearshift) Alright, Angel, watch and learn from Jeff.

<game> _beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeeep_

ANGEL: (puzzled) Jeff? (Spike doesn't hear, too enraptured in playing the game. He shifts gears and floors the pedal.)

SPIKE: Yeah! Eat my pipe!

ANGEL: (mutters) I wouldn't. Tastes like onions...

SPIKE: (thoroughly into the game) Oi! Quit hoggin' the lanes!

ANGEL: Something tells me you don't know what 'Defensive Driver' means.

SPIKE: (rams the back of a computerized car) Move yer bloody arse, granny!

ANGEL: (shrugs, watching the screen intently) Doesn't look so hard.

SPIKE: (he and grandma explode in a burst of flames) Bollocks! (Angel chuckles) Stupid bint. Where'd they teach her to drive - Buffy's Driving School?

ANGEL: (shudders at the memory of Buffy's driving) No one's *that* bad...

SPIKE: (puts more tokens in machine) At least she drove faster than the speed of snail, pet. (looks pointedly at Angel)

ANGEL: That's called going the speed limit, Spike. As well as watching for pedestrians. Two things you never do.

SPIKE: I watch for pedestrians all the time!

ANGEL: You watch them leap off the sidewalk and slide voluntarily under your tires, perhaps?

SPIKE: The powersuits with flowered ties are worth eight hundred points.

ANGEL: You're never driving my car.

SPIKE: And mu-mus! Orange ones, a thousand easy.

ANGEL: *What* are you talking about?

SPIKE: (scratches head) I wonder how much I'd get for limp-dicked soulful wankers?

ANGEL: I wonder how much I'd get for staking you?

SPIKE: Aww, did I make Angel blue?

ANGEL: Blue-balled, maybe, you cocktease.

SPIKE: (Bats his eyelashes) Cock-a-doodle-doo.

ANGEL: (shakes head and moves to sit in the second 'car') *What* was I thinking when I made you?

SPIKE: (helpfully) Why didn't you make me sooner?

ANGEL: (shudders) Two centuries of you was plenty.

SPIKE: You didn't have me for two C's. You vanished in the souled sunset for a hundred of them.

ANGEL: A welcome reprieve. (Looks at steering wheel in front of him) This game is just driving?

SPIKE: *Just* driving?! This is Pole Position! Cor, that's like saying Tiger Woods just golfs!

ANGEL: Tiger Woods? Isn't that out near Belleview?

SPIKE: (gives Angel a token) Put that in the little hole, and shut your yap.

ANGEL: (smirks) You said the same thing last night.

<game> _Players, start your engines!_

SPIKE: (instructional voice) Now, when the light goes green, push the pedal with your right foot.

ANGEL: (mutters) Next he'll tell me 'left hand yellow.'

<game> _beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeep_

SPIKE: (floors it ) Kiss my boot, hairboy!

ANGEL: (finds the pedal and speeds off after Spike) If it tastes anything like your dick, no thanks.

SPIKE: If my cock tastes so rotten, why's your mouth always around it?

ANGEL: (overtakes Spike's car) Pity access.

SPIKE: (sputters when he sees Angel's car) Pity access! (careens around several other game cars, trying to catch up to Angel)

ANGEL: (shifts gears and floors the pedal) Yeah, to my home, my clothes, my mouth...

SPIKE: Yeah, well, let's just see who outlasts whom.

ANGEL: (snorts rudely and mumbles) Like this is a contest...

SPIKE: (a car cuts him off) You bloody prick, watch where you're fucking going! (spins wheel wildly)

ANGEL: I was watching. I cut you off, didn't I?

SPIKE: You sure as hell did, Mrs. Bobbitt!

ANGEL: (narrows his eyes as his car gets hit in the rear) You've always wanted to ram my ass, haven't you Spike?

SPIKE: (shifts gears and tries to pass Angel's car) Not anymore. Who knows what's growing up there.

ANGEL: (changes gears again and pulls away from Spike) So if I said 'Spike, I want you to fuck me in the ass' you'd decline gracefully?

SPIKE: Are you offering?

ANGEL: No.

SPIKE: (narrows his eyes at the game screen) Then yes, I would.

ANGEL: And if I was offering?

SPIKE: I'd decline vehemently

ANGEL: You've been reading the thesaurus again, haven't you?

SPIKE: It's the only bloody book you got in English, you toff.

ANGEL: (guns the wheel around a sharp corner) Then I'll just have to teach you another language.

SPIKE: If you say 'the language of love', I may heave. (crashes head-on into the wall) BOLLOCKS! (Angel speeds through the last checkpoint and gets the wave of the checkered flag. Spike's car goes up in a fiery explosion)

ANGEL: (looks over at Spike's screen) Just because you lost, you didn't have to spontaneously combust over it....

SPIKE: Fuck off!

ANGEL: (gets out of the cramped car and stretches) Has anyone ever told you you're a sore loser?

SPIKE: And lived?

ANGEL: (rolls eyes) Forget it. (looks around at all the kids and cringes) Are we any closer to leaving this place yet?

SPIKE: (stands and stomps away) No.

ANGEL: (irritably) Why not?

SPIKE: (growls) Because I'm having *fun.*

ANGEL: You call throwing a minor tantrum fun?

SPIKE: No, I call *this* fun. (grabs a blue pistol from another arcade game)

ANGEL: (eyes the pistol warily) And what do you intend to shoot with *that*? (Spike caresses the plastic weapon. Angel looks on in disgust) Would you two like to be alone? I wouldn't mind leaving.

SPIKE: (snorts) You do that, mate. This hunk of plastic could give me more action than you do in a month.

ANGEL: Yeah, but I doubt *you* could satisfy *it*. (makes to leave)

SPIKE: (slams some tokens into the game, still angry over losing) Bugger off, Angel. Go find a mirror or somethin', your hair is starting to frazzle. I'm serious. You look like Xander.

ANGEL: If you want me to leave, you're really going about it the wrong way.

SPIKE: There's a right way to get you to leave? Do tell!

ANGEL: You're still upset over that little car game, aren't you?

SPIKE: (scowls) You cheated.

ANGEL: (spreads his hands wide) *How* did I cheat?

SPIKE: You used the better side.

ANGEL: Just like I get the 'easy' box in trivial pursuit, huh?

SPIKE: You do get the easy box.

ANGEL: No, I'm just smart. Unlike some bleached idiots who I won't name. *cough*SPIKE*cough*

SPIKE: Bleached idiots, you say? I never thought I'd hear you talk about your ex like that....

ANGEL: (scowls) As of now, technically, *you're* my ex..

SPIKE: Promises, promises.

ANGEL: I promise I'll beat your hide black and blue when we get home.

SPIKE: (coquettishly) Wah, Angel, ah didn't know yew cahred.

ANGEL: I don't.

SPIKE: Wanna bet?

ANGEL: (narrows eyes) Yes.

SPIKE: (gestures to the pink gun) Winner gets to ask one question, and loser has to tell the truth. (grins devilishly) And then the winner gets to be on top.

ANGEL: (thinks it over for a moment, before picking up the gun). You're on.

SPIKE: (sticks another token into the game and selects two players) Get out your kneepads, pet, you're in for a long night.

ANGEL: (studies the gun) Can this thing even *shoot*?

SPIKE: Funny, I was wondering the same thing about your willy.

<game> _Officers, 2-11 in progress. Proceed at your own risk!_

ANGEL: What do I do?

SPIKE: Pull down your pants, cuz it's all over, mate. (begins firing)

ANGEL: (takes a moment longer to stare at the gun in his hands before he considers firing it)

SPIKE: (braggingly) Five hundred points already...

ANGEL: (frowns at the screen and holds the gun up)

SPIKE: (smugly) You'll have to tell me if floor burn hurts as much as rug burn.

ANGEL: (sees a few bad guys) Oh. I get it... (takes down five robbers with five bullets before reloading the gun expertly)

<game> _Aiiiiiiiiii!_

SPIKE: Oops.

ANGEL: (looks over to what Spike's doing) Are you shooting the civilians?

SPIKE: Uh, no.

ANGEL: Then why was a little girl in pigtails and her puppy gunned down?

SPIKE: Rabies. (firing rapidly, missing more than hitting)

(Angel takes out another three baddies and reloads. Spike purses lips as he sees Angel's score)

ANGEL: You're right, Spike. This is kinda fun. (shoots Spike a very evil smile)

SPIKE: (nostrils flare at the implication and he throws all his attention into the game. Spike begins chanting under his metaphorical breath) Die... die... die...

ANGEL: (smiles) I could really get into this... (takes out another 3 baddies, including one Spike has spent the last minute missing)... and I can't wait to get into you.

SPIKE: (angrily shakes the gun as he misses again) Will you *die* already!

<game> _Game Over._

ANGEL: (blows imaginary smoke from the barrel, and deposits it into the holster)

SPIKE: (sullenly) Doesn't count. My gun got jammed.

ANGEL: (a mocking smile on his face) Sounds perfectly plausible.

SPIKE: (waves the game gun threateningly) How would you like *this* stuck up your arse?!

ANGEL: You're mistaken, boy. I'm not the one getting anything stuck up *my* ass.

SPIKE: (drops the game gun and folds his arms across his chest) Neither am I. You cheated.

ANGEL: *How*?!?! (Spike refuses to answer and just walks away. Angel follows him) You. Are. The. Biggest. Spoilsport. I. Have. Ever. Met.

SPIKE: (sings over his shoulder) I can't hear you.

ANGEL: (murmurs) You will later.... (louder) Are we done here, yet? I have the fondest desire to go home and break out the manacles...

SPIKE: (stops in front of another game) New bet. I win: slate's wiped clean.

ANGEL: (follows and stops in front of the game) You want me to play...this?

SPIKE: Afraid?

ANGEL: (deadpan) I've been to Hell. A box of light and sound doesn't hold that much for me in the way of fear.

SPIKE: Yeah? (inserts tokens in the game for both of them) Well, you've never played Mortal Kombat

ANGEL: You want me to play a game created by someone who can't even spell?

<game> _Choose._

SPIKE: (chooses Chang) You keep flappin' your gums instead of agreein' to the new bet or not?

ANGEL: Sorry, can you repeat that? (grins maliciously) I didn't hear you, I was thinking of a suitable question for you to answer.

SPIKE: (quickly)If you don't agree, you forfeit and I win anyway. A bet made in good faith not taken forfeits all prior bets

ANGEL: (narrows his eyes at the game, trying to judge how hard it will be) I don't know.

SPIKE: (goes in for the kill) If I lose, anything goes.

ANGEL: (eyes sparkle dangerously) Deal.

SPIKE: Then pick a character and let's start already.

ANGEL: (steps up to the game and studies the screen). I like..... (points to a muscly male character) that one.

SPIKE: (reaches over to Angel's controls and sets the character) Done. (snickers under breath) Loser.

<Game> _Let Mortal Kombat Begin!_

ANGEL: (stares at the joystick and rows of buttons, frowning slightly)

SPIKE: (grabs his controls, has his character run over to Angel's and kicks his ass) Take that, Soulwimp.

ANGEL: (tries to move in vain but gets pummeled more) Hey!

SPIKE: And that... and that... and a little more of that!

ANGEL: (wrenches the joystick back and forth violently)

SPIKE: Hey, Angel, you're bleedin' a bit there.

ANGEL: (just growls and mashes the buttons on the panel with his fist)

SPIKE: Ooh, there goes an eye. That's gotta hurt.

ANGEL: (glares at Spike) I have no doubt you'll find out how much shortly.

SPIKE: Now who's bein' a sore loser?

ANGEL: (mutter) I may be losing but you're the one who's going to be sore...

SPIKE: (hits a combination of buttons and jiggles the control) Watch out, baby. This is gonna hurt.

ANGEL: (gets distracted) "Baby"?

SPIKE: Yeah, baby, because you're gonna need your diapers changed after I do this! (rips Angel's character's spine out)

ANGEL: (scowls as Spike crows in victory) You cheated.

SPIKE: (smirks) *How*?

ANGEL: (snatches another token off Spike and shoves it into the machine) Best two out of three.

<game> _Choose._

SPIKE: (snorts) You're on. Original bet stands. Winner gets to top and a question.

ANGEL: Fine fine fine. Stop talking. Start dying. (chooses a different character)

<game> _Let Mortal Kombat Begin!_

SPIKE: (grabs controls. Hits buttons twice. Rips out Angel's character's heart)

ANGEL: (eyes widen in disbelief)

SPIKE: Wanna bite?

ANGEL: You bastard! (growls savagely and thumps the game. Spike disappears into the crowd with a swagger)

ANGEL: (muttering to himself and glaring at the screen) Jackass... just cuz you can do on a game what you can't do in real life... I'm going to yank out his fingernails and use them as tiddlywinks... and- (turns around and Spike is gone)

ANGEL: Spike?

(Angel frowns and scans the crowd quickly. He spends ten minutes wading through the crowd with controlled anxiety, systematically checking each machine. Eventually, he hears familiar curses and yells above the general buzz of humans, and finds a flight simulator near the back of the arcade)

SPIKE: Ha-ha! Die sheep die! (hits the trigger on the flight stick and shoots several farm animals) Ewes dead!

ANGEL: (surreptitiously sighs in relief, and, with a bit of effort, squeezes into the second seat in the game, anger dissipated) That's a really baa-aad joke, Spike...

SPIKE: Yeah, I know. I go for the sheep laughs.

ANGEL: I'm sure you have them rolling all over the pastures with jokes like that.

SPIKE: (scans the flickering screen in front of him and spots a cow) There's the beef. (shoots the cow) Hamburger, anyone?

ANGEL: (scans the screen) And the point of this game would be to... shoot livestock? (Spike mows down the farmer. Angel frowns) I really don't think you're playing correctly...

SPIKE: Sod off, side seat flyer

ANGEL: Look, I'm just saying-

(Spike flies towards a barn and hits the trigger, blowing it up. He then turns back to the skies and catches up to another plane, hitting the trigger. Spike begins to sing in a loud and obnoxious voice)

SPIKE: After the turn of the century

In the clear blue skies over Germany...

ANGEL: Spike-

SPIKE: (sings louder, shooting at the plane in front of him)

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more

That Bloody Red Baron is rolling up the score...

ANGEL: (hisses exasperatedly, but gets an idea)

SPIKE: You know, I always wondered how big Snoopy's dog house really was inside.

ANGEL: (runs his hand lightly down over Spike's tshirt clad chest) Mmhmm.

SPIKE: (shoots a frown at Angel) Keep your hands to yourself, eh?

ANGEL: (traces a finger down a toned stomach) Not breaking your concentration, am I, Herr Baron?

SPIKE: (snorts derisively) You'd need bigger tits to do that, tosser. (returns to playing the game)

ANGEL: (walks his fingers over Spike's thigh and leans in close to his ear) So, I'm not distracting?

SPIKE: (blows up the plane) Nope.

ANGEL: (runs his tongue up the curve of Spike's ear) That's a shame...

SPIKE: (pulls slightly away) I'm not a bloody lolly

ANGEL: (cups Spike through his jeans) Too bad... I was going to suck you like one.

SPIKE: (jerks the flightstick wildly) Right, like you'd do that in public.

ANGEL: (purrs in Spike's ear) Try me.

SPIKE: (finger hits the trigger, shooting at nothing. Angel tugs Spike's zipper down and the blond crashes the plane)

ANGEL: Oh look. You've crashed your little plane.

SPIKE: (turns and grabs Angel by the back of the hair) You think you can do better?

ANGEL: (growls) Playing awfully rough for a sore loser...

SPIKE: I won, remember, Bottomboy?

ANGEL: (takes his hand away from Spike's lap) I haven't forgotten.

SPIKE: Which also means I have a question coming...

ANGEL: (looks slightly nervous) That you do.

SPIKE: (starts playing with the hair on the nape of Angel's neck) Hmm, what to ask, what to ask.

ANGEL: (drops his chin and sighs) Just ask.

SPIKE: (twines Angel's hair between his fingers) Well, I could go the

completely sappy route and ask if you honestly want me to stay with you--

ANGEL: (softly) Unquestionably.

SPIKE: (not hearing Angel) --or I can ask what's been plaguing me for awhile now.

ANGEL: (glances up at him): And what's that?

SPIKE: How the bloody hell do you get your hair to stay like that?

ANGEL: (looks offended, then suddenly grins) There's Something About Spike hairgel.

SPIKE: Huh? (Angel grins larger and waggles his brows. Spike gets it and yanks his hand away) Oh, you sick puppy!

ANGEL: And you absolutely love it.

SPIKE: Got me there.

ANGEL: (snags the back of Spike's hair and pulls him closer) No, I got you here.

SPIKE: Horrid English, luv.

ANGEL: Well, then it's a good thing that I have you around then, huh?

SPIKE: (leans in) Damn straight.

ANGEL: (whispers against Spike's lips) Damn straight.

 

**End**


End file.
